The Price of Silence
by The.Velvet.Dusk
Summary: Set after Grave New World. Spencer struggles with how much she can tell Toby after her traumatic night in Ravenswood & Alison's reveal. Written pre-4B, one-shot.
1. Chapter 1

_**a/n: According to interviews with the producers, the girls plan to keep Ali's appearance a secret from their significant others. I say bullcrap to that.**_

_**ALSO this will tie in with a multi-chap I'm hoping to publish soon. This will still act as an independent fic, but sort of a prequel to what is coming down the line. Love you all :)**_

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One foot slipped through with the other quick to follow. She just wanted to feel warm again.

Nothing had felt right in the last 48 hours. It was as if she had experienced one long, deranged mirage. Nightmare would have probably been a more accurate descriptor, but that word had permanently been shelved on her ban list. Her life had one too many nightmarish plot twists and she'd rather not dwell on the dark implications of all that had yet to end in the proverbial happily ever after.

One arm tunneled successfully through the sleeve, then the other repeated its course. Her head wormed its way up through the opening of the cozy thermal shirt. The scratchy black costume from Ravenswood had been miserably constricting.

And on the subject of nightmares and endings, it seemed like the one fact she had been sure of for the last two years was now completely defunct. Alison was just as alive as she was. Alive, but afraid. As impossible as it seemed, Spencer couldn't deny what she had seen firsthand. The spill of blond curls, those wide eyes, a twisting smile and a hint of the familiar clandestine web—every answer always led to a spiraling mass of added questions.

She reached for her hairbrush with lethargic fingers, feeling the impact of all that had transpired in their impromptu trip to Ravenswood. Her cranium still throbbed from her vicious encounter with the masked figure she could only assume was –A. With that dizzying welt on the back of her head, it was probably a disguised blessing that she hadn't been the one to drive home.

And in the silence of another lone night of decompressing at the House of Hastings, a slight clicking from the first floor sent her whole nervous system into a panic.

Although she wouldn't dare admit it to her friends, she had really hoped they would spend the night. Hanna had initiated the exodus with an understandable desire to get home and see her mom. They had lost a lot of time with each other in recent weeks and Spencer was happy that Hanna had her biggest supporter back. But, as the blonde began to excuse herself, the other two had hastily followed suit and promised to call in the morning. And then there was one.

That one being a very on edge Spencer Hastings. Alone.

Suddenly every spine-chilling thing Mrs. Grunwald had intimated rushed to Spencer's ears. This was it, this was –A coming to torture her until she revealed all of Ali's secrets. Too bad she didn't know any of them.

A floorboard shuddered below.

"Spencer? Are you here?"

Her breath left her in a whooshing release of sweet reprieve.

"Toby?" Her bare feet slapped over the cool hardwood as she slid out of her room and down the steps. "I'm so glad you're here."

But he didn't look quite as happy to see her. His face was smoothed into a cover of impassive neutrality. That was never a good sign. He usually was bursting with warmth whenever she entered a room, but anytime he looked like _that_…it likely meant he was doing all he could to keep his anger on a short leash.

"Toby? What's wrong? Did Mona do somet—?"

"No, this isn't about her, Spencer. This is about you not answering your phone the last thousand times I called you." His jaw ground together as he yanked his jacket off and deposited it on the sofa.

Her forehead connected with the probing tips of her fingers. Spencer murmured a soft curse as she visualized her phone's spot in the center console of her SUV. "I left it in the car."

She heard a shift in his voice as he cleared his throat and replied, "Well I can run out and get it for you."

It was as if he had read the defeat in the sagging lines of her body language. "That's not really a possibility."

"And why is that?" As hard as he tried to stifle the tightness in his tone, she still heard its twisted thread in each strained syllable.

"Funny how we've done such a 180 since last night, huh?" Her voice cracked pitiably. "Now you're the one wearing out the redial button and I'm mysteriously unresponsive. Life is so comical."

"Spence…"

Her eyes filled with a ridiculous sheen of tears. It had been a rough night and the way he exhaled her name with a tidal wave of emotion…it rattled her at the core. "My phone is in my car. My car is in Ravenswood."

"_Why_ is your car still in Ravenswood?" The heat of his calloused palm connected with her cheek in the gentlest of embraces. She hadn't even known he had crossed to meet her at the bottom of the staircase.

"I—I had a flat. And we really didn't want to be in that town for another second."

One of his hands found hers as he led her up the steps. "So how did you get home?"

"Mr. Fitz…Ezra…whatever I'm supposed to call him…he was worried about Aria and he drove out to check on her. He gave us all a ride home." She sighed appreciatively as Toby sat them both down in the rocking chair he had crafted with his own hands. His lap was her exclusive place of solace after a day like this.

His blue gaze narrowed. "I thought she was dating that karate guy now."

Spencer raised a tentative shoulder. "I think she's…conflicted."

"Well I'm glad he was there. I wouldn't want you waiting around for a tow truck at this hour."

She nodded against the frame of his adept shoulder. "You and me both. I've had enough of that place."

Toby laid a series of short kisses along the crown of her head. Both of his feet remained planted solidly on the floor, setting a soothing pace as he rocked them back and forth. She curled her body up to fully rest against him. "You do know that I need to hear what happened at this magic show, right? I was wearing out the redial button for a reason, Spencer."

The magic show? Right. That was the last thing she had communicated to him. The Great Charlamagne's act seemed like two lifetimes ago.

"The magic show was…a diversion."

His head angled lower to press her with a searing look. "Don't make me read between the lines."

"Aria got pulled up into the act. I was so afraid she wouldn't come back that I kind of lost sight of everything else. When she came back down from the platform, Emily was missing. She had been right there with Hanna and me…but then she was gone."

"Em? Is she okay?" That tightness was back, mingling with barely compressed hurriedness.

"Yes, she's fine now. We tracked her to an old saw mill. Someone had her locked up in a box and sent her down the conveyor belt…toward an active saw." A shudder ran through her as she recounted the terror of the moment. "But Red Coat was there too. She cut the power just in time."

"Red Coat? She **saved** Emily?"

Spencer paused, feeling an immediate powerlessness absorb her. She wasn't sure how much she was supposed to disclose to him. But they had agreed; no more secrets.

Still, Ali's life was on the line.

"Spencer, what happened? Do you know who Red Coat is now?"

She twisted to face him more directly. "There were two of them in the mill. One shut off the machine and the other climbed some stairs. Aria followed the second one and it was CeCe Drake, just like we thought."

"Two of them?" He shook his head in exasperation. She knew the feeling. "Did you catch CeCe?"

A proud smile crossed her mouth. "Aria certainly held her own. We thought CeCe was knocked out cold…apparently she wasn't. She got away."

He grunted with a murky frown. "And this other Red Coat?"

"She led me to the new –A Lair. Toby, it was…it was unbelievable." She felt her voice flatten weakly. This was the component that would open the notorious can of worms.

"You were _in_ –A's lair? Alone?"

With a jerky abruptness, Toby lifted her out of her position of comfort and dumped her back down on the chair while he began to pace across the bedroom floor.

"Well the other girls went back there with me."

"That's great, Spencer, four unarmed teenage girls just hanging out in the den of Satan. What if—"

"You don't have to pose a bunch of horrific scenarios, Toby. I'm more than capable of filling in those blanks, okay?" She pinched the bridge of her nose as she attempted to ignore the eerie flashes of a gas mask attacker. "Hanna was on the phone with Caleb for most of the time we were in there. He would have known if something happened to us. We were trying to crack into his computer."

His long strides halted with an alarming swiftness. "His? **_His_**? You think this is a he?"

Oh. That was new information. This was getting tricky, especially with the way her entire skull pulsed and thrashed beneath her russet tresses.

"I don't know. Maybe." She folded her legs up to her chest and hugged her legging-clad knees closer.

"_Maybe_? Spencer, what aren't you saying? I'm really trying to stay calm here, but you aren't making that very easy." His boots thudded toward the rocking chair, his cerulean eyes intent on hers.

She shook her head slowly, her heart rate increasing with each heavy step he took. Why did they always find themselves in a repellent cycle of ugly confrontations? "Toby…"

"What?" His voice was once again smooth and tender, a rich balm against her chapped soul. "What is it, sweetheart? Let me in, please, Spence. Don't let this unravel us again."

Her lashes fluttered in shame as he dropped to his knees before her and braced his arms on either side of her. "Toby, I…"

He watched her with a meticulous contemplation, all of his previous irritation melting into a compassionate entreaty. "C'mon, we agreed, didn't we? For every bad decision I've made in the past few weeks, at least I've held onto our promise. We have to be honest with each other, Spencer. Don't shut me out."

Spencer's hands sought out the fabric of her oversized shirt—one she had pilfered from his closet—and pulled it up over her face, scrubbing at her skin in a restless moment of indecision. It was true, he had held up his side of the bargain. He had confessed to stealing the RV, had informed her of the blackmail regarding his mom's death, had divulged his plan to break into Dr. Palmer's car. How could she withdraw now? She knew what the devastation her secrets had caused in the past. Those unspoken burdens had driven him straight into hell's inner circle.

And that was not something she was willing to relive.

Her hands dropped and the fabric of the shirt fell away. He hadn't moved a millimeter; her haunted reflection bounced back at her in the mirror of his beautiful eyes. "Hanna found a bunch of black jackets and shoes. All men's."

"In the lair?"

Her head bobbed faintly.

"Is that all?" He whisked a strand of hair off of her brow.

"Do you remember Mrs. Grunwald? From when you and I went to Ravenswood?"

She basked in the faded glimmer of mirth in his gaze. "Yeah, your interrogation victim in the hair salon?"

"Well I was right. She admitted it tonight. There was a connection between her and Alison."

Toby's lips twitched to the side. "Spencer Hastings, the human bloodhound, is rarely wrong."

"Until I lose the scent."

"You're still holding back. I can tell." His speech was still even, but she knew he couldn't wait forever.

"You aren't going to believe me."

"I've lived in this town long enough to believe the unbelievable." He stood and shuffled over to the red ottoman, pulling it to a stop in front of her. "Try me."

"Mrs. Grunwald is some sort of clairvoyant. She has…visions. That's why Ali sought her out."

To his credit, he didn't even blink. "Go on."

Spencer squeezed her arms tighter around the huddle of her knees. "She knew Ali was in danger…she sensed it, and she came to Rosewood… she pulled her out of the ground where someone had buried her that night. She…she took her to the ER, but Ali…slipped away. And Grunwald hasn't seen her since, but…"

"But she says she's alive."

"Yes." Her eyes focused on the jagged nail of her index finger. She couldn't bear to look at him. The next logical question was so plain. Her stomach coiled in anticipation.

He bent lower to study her. "And you trust this information?"

"Yes."

"Because you've seen her? In the woods at the lodge?"

She bit down harshly on her bottom lip, the agony barely registering.

"Spencer?"

"Yes, that and…before too. We all have, but…we never thought she was real. It never seemed possible."

"That version of the story doesn't explain why you were gone for hours after we last spoke." His strong fingers cupped her chin, hesitantly tilting her face back up to his.

"We stayed to look for her." Her voice sounded like a blender full of gravel. There was no point in concealing the tremor that ran through her like an electric current.

"For Alison?"

"Y-yes, we were trying to help her…Grunwald said that _he's_ still after her."

He pursed his lips together in concentration. "He? As in this new –A we've been dealing with?"

She began to shake her head, her mind flooding with the chaotic details of all that emerged in Ravenswood's mansion of horrors.

"And _if_ she's alive and still has a mob of scorned exes and victims on her tail, you plan to come to her aid? Spence, she abandoned the four of you…she did nothing but stir up trouble and you've been left to sift through the aftermath. All these enemies, they're her creations. How can—"

"Toby, please—"

He brusquely stood again, the ottoman sliding backward in response. "I can't watch you risk your life on her behalf. She was a monster, Spencer. I thought that you could admit that after all you've been through."

"I know she wasn't a saint, Toby." She unfolded from her perch and attempted to stand as well, but her posture was far less firm than his. Her white grip on the arm of the rocker seemed to catch his attention. He was beside her in a second, his hand running through the tangle of her wavy hair.

"Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow. I'm sure you're tired." His words wrapped around her with the consoling quality of a blanket. She leaned gratefully into the stroking fingers…until they unsuspectingly brushed over the swelling knot on the back of her head. Spencer couldn't hold back the fierce flinching motion that accompanied the wash of striking pain.

"**Spencer**?"

Her mocha eyes flickered up and found a deep pool of concern etched into his entire expression. "I guess I should have mentioned my brief altercation with the costumed version of –A."

His breathing was shallow as he allowed his thumb to ghost back over the afflicted spot. "He…it…did this to you?"

"You could say that I initiated it, but, yes, this was the result…the weird part is, I blacked out for a couple of minutes and…Toby, if he wanted to kill me, he could have right there. But he didn't."

"Sorry, but that doesn't mean I'm sending the guy a Christmas card this year." He draped an arm around her shoulders and drew her over to sanctuary of her bed. "Are you sure you don't have a concussion? If we need to get you to the hospital then I'm—"

"No, it isn't that bad, I promise. Just a good night's sleep and I'll be fine." A yawn swooped in with impeccable timing, capturing her entire body in its lull of sluggishness. She wilted against the pillows at the headboard, watching him settle across from her with a half-lidded regard.

He examined her with renewed tenacity. "Did you find her?"

"Wow, nice segue there." The sarcastic reply rolled right out of her, but she knew it was flimsy at best.

"_Spencer_."

"No, we didn't find her." She wanted to leave it there, wanted to protect Alison and shield her from any potential harm. But Toby was right. Ali's mess had been the catalyst for every bit of torture and pain over the past two years. Her friends had suffered in the wake of her disappearance; her relationship with Toby had consequently been filled with unnecessary strain and heartache. Here was the man who would do anything for her sake, even wash his hands of his investigation for the truth of his mother's death. He loved her unconditionally, past all the lies and confusion and barriers. Ali had broken him all those years ago, yet here he was, a phoenix who had risen from the ashes and stood as her own personal Superman. _No more secrets_.

She greedily stole one last fortifying breath. "But she found us."

His mouth fell open in shock as his fingers threaded into her grasp. "You saw her? Tonight?"

"I…I saw her, Toby. She was here, in my backyard. All four of us saw her."

"Did she tell you who is after her?"

Her head dipped forward in degradation. "No. I asked, but all she said was that she wanted to come home. She needs our help…and it isn't safe yet."

A distant rage crossed his features. "Sure, you're supposed to help her since it isn't safe yet. Safe? Spencer, when is the last time you felt safe? You continue to shoulder the brunt of –A while she fades back into the mist? That's un-freaking-believable! I—"

His monologue was cut off at the sound of her meager whimper.

"I'm sorry, I know I'm not helping, honey." He swiped at the tear slipping over her cheekbone. "I just worry about you, you know? And I love you so much. I don't like that even from the shadows, she's still the one holding all the cards while we stumble around blindly."

Spencer nodded with gradual recognition, another tear flying from the cage of her black lashes. "She was my friend, though. I know it doesn't make sense…"

"No, not really. But I'm not letting you do this alone." Toby closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against hers. "I'm not giving up on the hunt. Not when you're still in danger."

"Toby," she felt a sob climbing up her throat. "I…I shouldn't have told you this…if she knew…"

He kissed her again, the surge of his passion moving harmoniously against her welcoming mouth. His hands swept over her arms, the friction warming her from the inside out. As they parted, his forehead remained linked to hers.

His words were breathless and careful all at the same time. "I have no intention of spreading the news, Spencer. You know you can trust me."

"I know. I just don't want to make things worse for her."

"I won't say a thing. Who would I tell, anyway? You're the only one who matters."

A shaky smile spread over her lips. "She was wrong about so much."

His brow crinkled. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I love you. And that you are the best surprise I've ever received. I might want to help her, but that doesn't erase all of the good things that have happened in the time she's been gone."

Toby's grin split her heart—in a good way. "Well that's a relief."

Another yawn passed over her. She glanced reluctantly at the clock stationed on her nightstand, cringing at the lateness of the hour. "Stay tonight? Pretty please?"

"As if I could ever say no to that."

It wasn't as if they had solved anything. Yet somehow Spencer slept soundly, knowing that the arms that held her were attached to the man who had changed everything. He saw through her annoying perfectionism and stubborn pride, knew her ugliest secrets, had suffered the former brutality of her and her friends.

And he was still here, that ever-fixed mark, her one love. Even if this was just the beginning, she knew he'd still be there at the end.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey friends! I've noticed that I have several followers on this story, which was only meant to be a standalone fic. I've posted a new story called **Flee The Midnight Sky**, which ties into The Price of Silence. I wrote this as a sort-of prequel to **FTMS** for the purpose of moving the story along from the perspective of Toby already knowing that Alison was alive.

Basically, if you enjoyed this, please go read **Flee The Midnight Sky**. It picks up a little bit in the future and will be a multi-chap fic. Thanks for the support! Here is the link (if it works in this format..?). THANKS!

s/9849491/1/Flee-The-Midnight-Sky


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